


shadows on my mind

by amazonqueen



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Fic Exchange, Fluff, Hamilton Gift Exchange 2k16, LLF Comment Project, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks, Polyamorous Alexander Hamilton, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 06:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8653942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazonqueen/pseuds/amazonqueen
Summary: Alex goes to bed with Herc, Laf, and John. He wakes up to a completely empty house, with no note explaining where they went. Stuff happens. Fluff ensues.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my_dearest_comma_laurens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_dearest_comma_laurens/gifts).



Alex wakes up to silence and darkness.

Being part of a poly square with Herc, Laf and John means that he almost never wakes up to total darkness, and certainly not silence. Herc snores like an elephant, and Laf will mutter in his sleep, and Alex is used to this. He likes this. It is normal, to wake up with him and John tangled together and Herc snoring and Laf probably running his mouth in French and to have cold toes because the covers got bunched up in the middle of the night.

Instead, his toes are cold because there are no other bodies in the bed with him. There is no sound, apart from his own breathing. And the blanket is firmly on his side of the bed.

He never thought he’d even think this, but he doesn’t want the blanket on his side.

There’s something like panic rising in his throat, and he swings himself out of bed, forces himself to action to try and quell it. Herc, Laf and John (John especially) know that he panics easily, that he has a fear of abandonment; they wouldn’t just up and leave the house. He tells himself this over and over again as he shuffles into the kitchen, hoping that Laf is making pancakes or Herc is cooking while John swipes at his phone, or even that they’ve left a note to tell him where they’ve gone.

They’re not in the kitchen, obviously, but Alex still searches for the note.

It’s not on the kitchen table, worn from the previous owners and dragged up from some secondhand store (Laf had brought it in; Alex hadn’t questioned it) and definitely note-free. It’s not on the counter, by the door, or even back in the bedroom, where Alex had gone in a mild state of panic in the hopes that he had missed it before.

Eventually, he has to face the harsh reality, which is that Herc, Laf and John have left him without even the courtesy of a note.

A vise grip closes around his heart at this thought, and his body seems to have suddenly gone cold. His breathing is coming out in harsh, jagged breaths, and it’s the only sound he can hear, the grating melody of his own panic and fear coalescing in his lungs, with the harmony of his heartbeat pounding along like drums underneath.

The demons seemed to have moved on to his stomach at this point, because Alex feels like he’s going to throw up, and he is abruptly reminded of why he’s been tipped into this panic attack in the first place. When Alex throws up, John and Herc and Laf are always there, holding his hair back or wiping his mouth and just there for him, and now they’re _not_ , just like how one day his father had been at home and the next day he was gone gone gone and he was never coming back again.

How could he think that anybody could love him or want him nobody gave a damn about him bastard orphan immigrant filthy; thoughts seemed to collide and fall apart within the confines of his head and Alex didn’t know when he had ended up in the corner of the kitchen, wedged by the refrigerator and the wall, but he is in no state to question it.

Alex tried to grab the refrigerator to steady himself but his hands were shaking so much that they couldn’t get a grip. Herc and Laf and John had said they would never leave him, they had promised, they had _promised_ , but Father had left and hadn’t he said he loved his little boy too?

The room was swimming in front of his eyes as Alex began to hyperventilate, and he managed to curse under his breath right before he couldn’t see anymore.

* * *

Alex wakes up to familiar hushed voices and the yellow light of the kitchen.

Even this light is too much for him, though, and he squints up from his spot next to the fridge into John’s eyes.

The relief that floods through him as soon as his brain realizes that they’re back, that John and Laf and Herc haven’t left him after all, is enough to make him want to cry. He does, in fact, and suddenly he is being smothered in hugs (Herc) and affection (John) and accented apologies (Laf, of course).

“You left me,” he stutters, accusatory.

“ _Cherie,”_ Laf begins, having crouched down next to Alex, “we would never leave you.” His voice is calm, soothing, and tinged with his French accent, and although Laf could probably calm a rabid lion, Alex is having none of it.

“But you did,” he says, and it sounds more whiny than anything, which was not what he had been going for. Herc is puttering around the kitchen now, starting up coffee and pancakes, which does more to calm Alex than Laf’s honeyed voice.

“Alex, it’s okay,” John says, and as always, John curls around him like ivy, comforting and warm. Their fingers have twined together naturally, as easy as breathing, and Alex lets out a shuddering breath. “Okay,” he echoes back. “Remember what to do?” John asks, voice light. There is no expectation there, Alex knows. There is no trap for him to fall into. These people love him. They care about him. John just wants to make sure he calms down completely.

“Five things you see,” John prompted, and Laf is sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor now, both men watching Alex. “You, Laf, Herc, the table, and the chairs,” Alex replies dutifully. His breathing is beginning to settle, now. “Four things you hear,” Laf says.

“Coffee maker, the fan above the stove, your voice, my voice, my breathing.” The aforementioned breathing is less noticeable, too. Alex can almost pretend that the events of the morning hadn’t happened. “Three things you smell,” Herc reminds him over the sound of the fan. Alex hadn’t realized that the other man was listening in, and his eyes flick over to Herc in surprise before replying. “Coffee, pancake batter, and sweat.” The sweat is his own; panic attacks tend to kickstart the production of sweat.

“Good job, Alex,” John says, coaxing him to continue without prompting. “I can feel the floor and the fridge,” he says, and then he is barrelling into the home stretch and says without any hints. “I can taste,” he begins, and then turns and kisses John, “your morning breath.”

This prompts laughter from John, a teasing exclamation of exclusion from Laf, and a grin from Herc. To remedy Laf’s exclusion, the man in question leans over and kisses both Alex and John in quick succession.

Alex and John laugh together this time, and the laughter swells like a bubble in his chest. “Poor Herc is being excluded,” John pointed out, and Alex shifts so that he can snuggle into John’s warmth and watch Laf hug and then kiss Herc from behind.

“Promise not to do that again,” Alex says to John, eyebrows suddenly furrowed. “Promise,” John replies, and links pinkies with Alex for good measure.

Alex relaxes back into John and watches Herc and Laf together, these men that love him and care for him and want him, despite what he may sometimes think in his darkest moments. It had been ten years since his father had left them, and he has moved on. He has better people around him now.

Alex sighs, and lets himself be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> title from bastille's these streets
> 
> @My_dearest_comma_Laurens, this is for you. <3
> 
> find me on tumblr at [@colourofinfinity!](http://colourofinfinity.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This story is part of **[the LLF comment project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject),** whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. 
> 
> This author invites:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
> 

> 
> This author replies to comments.


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